57 Sacrifice
by MagpieSong
Summary: #57 on my 100 themes challenge! This is set right after the end of Mass Effect 3 and follows Sage Shepard's final journey home.


Head pounding, chest heaving, struggling against the crushing weight. Something heavy lay across her body, crumpled and broken. She let her head fall back and gasped fire from her jagged lungs. Some chunk of shrapnel was sticking in the side of her left thigh and her right arm felt as though it were broken.

She cracked her dusty eyes and the world swam with burning colours, swirling and pulsating as darkness roiled at the edges of her vision. Bright spots popped across her dull green eyes and she crunched them shut once more.

She took quick, shallow breaths, then held fast and pushed with all the might of her good arm. A shaky cry erupted from her chest as the debris shifted and she forced herself up, scooting from beneath it. She let is fall with a loud clang, and hunched, drawing shaky breaths as her heart shuddered ominously.

The station around her had been reduced to hunks of scarred rubble. Glimmering light poured in from Earth, far below and the vast distance between them was scattered with wreckage and derelict ships. The surface of the planet was marred with bright orange patches where fires still burned unchecked.

Her chest rumbled with splitting pain and she coughed hard, blood splattering onto the ground as she hovered lowly. Another droplet fell from somewhere on her scalp, hair saturated. She did her best to straighten, managing an elderly hunch, and put most or her weight on her good leg.

Despite the rubble burning around her, the dense air buffered most of the sound, leaving her ragged breaths to colour her reality. Her ears beset by roaring and ringing that deafened the silence surrounding her.

She shuffled forwards, gritting her teeth in a feral snarl as a burst of pain flew up her spine. A tiny whimper sounded in her throat and she faltered, crooked and broken with one arm hanging uselessly by her side.

A growl built in her chest until a roar of determination burst forth and she surged onwards, determined not to die alone on the Citadel. Each breath was a desperate gasp that felt like razorblades and acid burning through her lungs as she slowly, steadily made her way to the control panel.

Her omnitool flickered into life, casting a dim orange glow over her drawn features. Her face was bruised and swollen with a split lip and a surely broken nose. Grime and blood stained her puffy cheeks and a black eye was beginning to descend from her right brow.

She stared down at the control panel as it produced a garbled concoction of beeps and warbles and waved her omitool over it, bringing up a menu. The words hashed across the small screen, forming sentences that confused her foggy brain and she stared at them without seeing anything at all for more than a few moments.

Finally she pulled together enough functioning brain cells to vaguely understand what was written there. She tapped away at the menu on her tool for a few seconds and when it beeped in affirmation she allowed to painful smirk of triumph to ghost across her face.

The platform slowly descended through the floor as she leaned heavily on the console. Everything ached and stabbed with pain and it was all she could do to keep herself upright. It sank into the floor a level below and stopped with a suddenness that almost cast her down like a ragdoll.

She could see Earth much clearer now. Her vision was still clouded and swimming, but she could see clouds, oceans, more than just the ominous glowing fires, at least. She allowed her thoughts to wander for a moment and turned her back on the scene below.

There lay Anderson, cold and still on the edge of the plinth. Blood had pooled across his abdomen, spilled onto the floor and had begun to congeal. She shuffled closer, biting back tears.

"Anderson", she whispered hollowly. "We did it, Anderson. We won."

Releasing a crushed groan, she forced her limbs to bend so she could crouch beside him. She reached into his tattered and stained shirt, feeling around for his dog tags. Her hand brushed against something cold and metallic and she grasped the familiar metal, pulling the tags free. She gently lifted his head and removed them, clutching them to her chest in a bloodied fist.

She tried to straighten, lifting herself and cried out as agony shot through her body, crippling her for a moment. No, she couldn't stop, couldn't allow it to end here and now. She forced herself up, and turned back to the control panel, desperate to find some way off the station.

The interface buzzed and beeped negatively as she desperately tried to hack it. Stupid. Hacking had never been her thing. Fucking electronics.

In frustration, she slammed her fist down on the controls, pain shooting up her arm. It gave a horrifyingly cheerful beep and before she could react, a blinding white light enveloped her.

Immediately she was thrown to the ground, falling into a broken heap with an agonised yell. Her hair had come undone from its usually severe bun and splayed about her head like a golden halo. The mud was cold, soft and somehow comforting as she lay face-down in the filth

A cry rose up from somewhere nearby. Then the sound of squelching growing closer. Someone was running towards her.

Suddenly, warm hands grabbed her, turning her limp body gently but urgently.

"Its Shepard!" yelled the male voice. More squelching.

Another pair of hands feeling to check her pulse, the glow of an omnitool illuminating the back of her eyelids, cool, slimy medigel being applied to her visible wounds. Still more hands came to rest on her body, feeling to know she was alive. Then a count down and suddenly the group were lifting her, carrying her limp body away from the conduit.

She wheezed, her breathing ever more ragged, and cracked her eyes. Through the smoky, black sky, stars twinkled dimly and the hulking form of the Citadel loomed like a broken prophet. The world around her was a hive of activity, people running, calling for medics and medigel. A familiar voice appealed to her through the darkness.

And there he was, Kaidan, bloodied, bruised, but alive. His hand met her still clenched fist, prying at her fingers in desperation. She squeezed, determined not to give up the precious tags.

He whispered something but his words were lost to the chaos as the others clamoured to provide medical treatment. She let herself relax for the first time, a tiny smile forming on her features. Kaidan was alive, and her job was done. Her eyes drooped.

"We're losing her!" barked on of the soldiers.

A string of no's tumbled from Kaidan's lips, desperately clinging to her hand as the men worked chaotically. She tried to grasp the threats of his voice, but they rapidly slipped beyond reach. The darkness began to close in, first on her vision, then her mind. She began to fall and fly and soar beyond her limits. It was bliss and peace.

A hush fell over the group as the medics ceased to work on her. They stood back, heads hung in respect as they bid farewell to their saviour. Kaidan's face was screwed up, tears rolling down and spattering on his scarred armour.

Finally, mercifully, it was over. Sage was home.


End file.
